Foreign Exchange
by Rhadeya
Summary: AU - A visiting CSI from another country stirs things up in Las Vagas... *please R&R*
1. Prologue

**Author's notes: This is my first CSI fic so please be kind :) Having watched the series for some time, this fic has kinda been going around in my head for a while and my muse finally allowed me to begin writing it. The R rating is in place as it will later become this, though at present it is only a PG/PG-13 rating. Oh yeah, and just remember... Evil plot bunnies are hidding everywhere LOL**

DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, I just take them out for a spin once in a while :)

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**PROLOGUE**

Sitting at his desk, reading a letter from overseas, Gil Grissom didn't at first notice Jim standing in the doorway. Suddenly sensing the presence of another person, Grissom looked up and smiled, motioning his collegue to take a seat. 

"So, what's so interesting?" the policeman, and former head of CSI, asked his friend.

"Hah! I wish it was good news but we don't ever seem to get that lucky do we?" Grissom retorted, seeing the smile his friend tried to hide and rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"Why? What's up?" came the polite enquiry, though Jim's voice was laden with humour.

"This stupid 'exchange program', that's what! I can't believe I agreed to this! Jason from the day shift is heading over to sunny ol' England for six months as we get lumbered with some wet-behind-the-ears rookie who's just going to get in the way and probably make my life hell!" the CSI head man snarled, causing Jim's smile to widen further.

"So, we get a new kid on the block then?" he laughed, the venomous look Grissom cast him just increasing the hilarity of the situation. 

"What the hell am I going to tell the rest of my team?" Gil wondered out loud, smiling as he slowly began to see the funny side, shaking his head in bemusement at the sight of his former boss doubled up in helpless laughter.

"Glad you find it so amusing," he snapped over his shoulder as he left his office, his mind going over exactly what to say to his team.

  
*********

"Well, well. A foreign CSI coming over eh? And a chick… err, a lady, to boot," Nick commented after Grissom had left, a predatory smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Nick, she's a visiting CSI and that means you've gotta be professional!" Sara piped up, playfully slapping her friend's arm in mock reprimand.

"What was it Gris called her? A 'wet-behind-the-ears rookie'? Man, this is gonna be fun," laughed Warrick, sending the rest of the team into fits of laughter. 

They all knew their boss well enough to know he wasn't happy about this woman coming into what he considered 'his' domain and they were all looking forward to what they foresaw as an interesting couple of months….  



	2. The Arrival of Jera

Disclaimer: Still don't own them, I wish I did LOL

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**#1 - The Arrival of Jera**

Wincing slightly as tense shoulder muscles complained at the movement, Gil Grissom straightened from the specimen he was studying, slowly moving his head from side to side to ease the tension. Glancing at the clock, he sighed and removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Damn it! Four hours and I'm still no closer to any answers!" he cursed silently, angry with himself for his lack of progress. Knowing the rest of his team were hard at work with their own cases, he momentarily pondered other avenues of investigation, as a chess player chooses their next move. Reaching for another specimen, he paused, feeling a slight shift in the air around him. Turning slightly to look over his shoulder, his heart fell as he saw a stranger standing in the doorway of his office, though his expression remained neutral. _"Great! Just what I need right now…"_ the sarcastic thought came and went in a heartbeat as he looked the woman up and down, mentally assessing her appearance and character. 

  
As his eyes travelled up, he noted the way the tailored cut of her trousers curved over her well-rounded hips and pert buttocks. Her plain, pale lilac blouse was tucked into her trousers, showing a slender waist and flowing nicely over her ample breasts. A relatively high neckline showed a small portion of the smooth skin covering her collarbone but gave no visible sign of any cleavage. _"More than a handful and a half is a waste…"_ the thought was quashed before it could go any further as he continued his assessment. Short, brunette hair was brushed back from her face, although a single lock curled enticingly down the right side of her forehead. He guessed her height at a few inches over five feet and, while her build suggested a delicate nature and lack of physical strength, her stance and an air of confidence that surrounded her contradicted her physical appearance. Deep, ocean blue eyes and pale skin were his final clues to her identity but he kept his face expressionless, hiding his smile as he noticed she was giving him a similar visual assessment to the one he had given her. _"I guess she likes what she sees…"_ he thought, catching the brief, subtle look of interest in her eyes. Unconsciously dropping his guard for a split second, an image appeared in his mind of _her eyes, wide with passion, looking deep into his own and seeing into the depths of his soul. His hands moved tenderly over her soft skin, lovingly caressing her as he slowly moved in and out of her, losing himself in the pleasure of feeling her wrapped around him. Writhing beneath him as she rose towards her peak, she called his name as she came. "Grissom!"_

  
"Grissom?" she repeated, snapping him back to reality instantly. Inwardly cursing himself for his momentary lack of concentration and professionalism, he smiled slightly and got to his feet, covering the distance between them and extending his hand in greeting.

"Gil Grissom," he introduced himself, a hint of amusement at his behaviour colouring his tone.

"Jera Pertho," she replied, her slightly mischievous smile making him wonder if she knew the reason for his previous hesitation.

"Pertho? An interesting name, Germanic in origin?" he asked, watching her closely.

"Kinda. Pertho is the Norse Rune of Secrets, Surprises, Mysteries, Initiation and Occult Powers. One of my ancestors was accused of being a witch. The name was given to her daughter and has been passed down with each generation," she informed him, confirming information he already knew. 

"Interesting," was his reply, shaking her hand in welcome. _"A mystery to be solved…"_ he thought, the earlier image coming to mind for a moment before he pushed it away, slightly perturbed at the unusual lack of control she seemed to stir in him. Forcing himself to concentrate on the issue at hand, he motioned her to take a seat at the large desk in the centre of the room, sliding back into his own and pushing the specimen to one side. 

"So, you're our 'exchange student' then?" he joked, hoping to ease the sudden tension growing in him.

"Yeah. Jason arrived with us the day before I left so I was able to say hi and get a bit of inside info before I hopped on my flight over here," she explained, noticing the way his eyes flicked from her face to her lips and back again. Making a mental note of this, she remained silent on the matter, though her curiosity was piqued by his behaviour. _"Hearing problem? Maybe he's going deaf? Either that or he could have an issue with hearing certain vocal ranges, like Mark did…"_

"Really? And what did he have to say about those of us on the graveyard shift I wonder?" Having a reasonable idea as to what might have been said, he put on an air of innocent interest.

"Ahhh, that'd be for me to know and you to maybe find out…" she laughed, a hint of a regional accent showing in her reply. Her English accent gave her melodic voice a definitively sexy quality, making her all the more mysterious.

"When did you get in?" he asked, guessing that she may not have slept since she left her own country.

"About two hours ago," she told him, confirming his suspicions. 

"Well, it's looking like being a fairly quiet night so you have a choice of the rather comfortable chair in the corner or a rather less comfortable bed in one of the cells…" 

"Hmm, while a bed sounds nice, I think I'll take the chair," she laughed, fighting to stifle a yawn as her long journey and jet lag began catching up on her. Flashing a quirky smile in his direction, she crossed to the leather chair in the corner and curled up, her eyes closing and her breathing slowing as she quickly dropped off to sleep.

  
Looking up from another specimen several hours later, Grissom glanced over at the young woman sleeping soundly a few feet away. Her expression was peaceful and her lips were curved into a slight smile, making Grissom realise just how beautiful he considered her. As he acknowledged the fact to himself, the earlier image of them making love came to the forefront of his mind once more. Closing his eyes for a moment, he allowed himself the luxury of letting the scene play out in his mind, the sensations coursing through him from the fantasy stirring a very real, physical response in a body used to long periods of abstinence. _"Am I going to manage six months of us being in close proximity most nights?"_ he idly wondered, watching her sleep a little while longer before he turned back to his work.  



	3. Just another Rookie?

A single ray of sunlight streamed in through the small window of Gil Grissom's office, casting intricate patterns upon the face of the woman asleep in the corner. Pausing his investigation for a moment, he watched the way the early morning light played on her skin, the slight change in temperature stirring her from a deep state of REM sleep. _"She looks a lot like Holly…"_ the thought came unbidden, and with it the memory of the fresh faced girl who had been killed on her first night with his team. _"My team,"_ he mused. _"It wasn't my team back then, it was Jim's. Only, he got reassigned after Holly's murder and I got put in charge here. I wonder if things around here would be different if she hadn't died…"_ he wondered, pulling himself away from the _'what if'_ train of thought as his gaze fell on Jera's sleeping form again. He doubted the young Brit would be here now if Holly had lived and guessed that Jim would still be in charge of the unit. Sara would probably still be in San Francisco and he may not have become as detached as he now was. _"Would things have worked out between Anna and I?"_ he pondered, remembering her words the night Holly got shot… 

_"Pin me up against a wall and lay one on me like ya mean it!" she laughed, rising from her chair and heading towards the computer terminal to begin the print search. "You're slackin' pal," she added, pausing in front of him for a moment before she took her seat and began her search._

Shaking his head to dispel old memories, Gil studied Jera as she began to wake up, roused by the sunlight and having caught up on some of her missed sleep. The image of them making love came to his mind briefly and he puzzled at it, unsure why, or how, she stirred such strong emotions in him. The emotional detachment he had developed after Holly's death had meant that, while he managed to keep himself from feeling the kind of pain he had experienced in the weeks following the tragedy, he also found it difficult to let anyone past the wall he had built around his feelings. His abortive affair with Lady Heather had driven that fact home to him with disturbing clarity, and had made him resigned to the fact that he would probably spend the rest of his life alone. Sighing, he got to his feet and crossed to the back of the office, turning on the small kettle and setting two cups on the cluttered counter. Trying to pull his mind away from painful thoughts of the past, he busied himself making drinks for them both. Returning to the main area of his office, he placed a hot cup of tea on the small table beside Jera and re-took his seat, blowing gently on his coffee to cool it as he waited for her to awaken fully. 

  
"Good morning," he greeted her, smiling a little as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Hi," she murmured softly, still groggy from her long journey and jet lag. "What time is it Gil?" she asked, unconsciously using his first name as she reached for her cup, taking a small sip and smiling, a small purr of contentment escaping her lips.

"About 6am, and if that's all it takes to satisfy you, you better watch out for some of the guys around here," he laughed, grinning wickedly at her as she shot him a look of mock disgust.

"Yeah, well, at your age, you've probably ain't got what it takes to satisfy a woman any more," she shot back, poking her tongue out at him.

"Jera, if it wasn't for the fact that you're barely out of diapers, I'd show you just how much I know," he countered, his expression and voice appearing to be so serious that she hesitated for a moment, a look of chagrin crossing her face for a second.

"Of course. I'm just a wet-behind-the-ears rookie right? Doesn't know anything about forensics? I'm just gonna get in the way and cause you headaches. Am I close?" she retorted, a touch of anger colouring her tone.

"What? Where did you…? Jason?" he guessed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I did say I'd talked to him before I left. He told me how I'd been described, and how my presence here was less than welcome. I very nearly didn't get on the plane after hearing that," she admitted, raising her chin defiantly.

"Look, we've had rookies come and go around here. And yes, I did say that, but your department head in England gave us virtually no information about you, so what am I supposed to think?" he sighed, guessing he had made a mistake in his assumption about her level of forensics experience.

"Mark is a bloody idiot Mr Grissom. Besides, he has an issue with the fact that I have more time on the job than he does, know more about crime than him and have more compassion in my little finger than he does in his whole body. My background, and the fact that I'm eight years younger than him just add to his dislike of me. I've been a SOCO for nine years. I'm not some kid just out of training," she informed him, a touch of resignation in her voice as she looked at him for a moment. 

  
Shaking her head, she got to her feet and headed for the door, ready to get on a plane back home as fast as possible. Although she was quick, Grissom was quicker and before she reached the door, he was standing in front of her, blocking her exit.

"I'm sorry. Please, sit back down…" His eyes conveyed his sincerity and she grudgingly re-took her seat, picking up her cup and taking another sip. "So, what's a 'SOCO' and how did you get into forensics, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Scene Of Crime Officer, what you guys call a CSI. I got into forensics after being involved in a kidnapping. When the police found us, I was fascinated by the way they collected evidence. Tony, the head of the department back then, decided to take a chance and offered me a job as a lab technician. I did that for six months, then he asked me to help out on a murder case they were investigating. Turns out, the guy responsible was Sean, the same guy who…" she hesitated, taking another mouthful of her drink before continuing. "I knew the guy, let's put it that way. Anyway, I had a unique insight into the case, and the perp. We got him, and after that, Tony offered me a job as a SOCO. My only regret is that we didn't catch him sooner…" she stopped, lost in old memories for a few seconds before she pulled herself back to reality.

"You were kidnapped?" he asked, filing the information away for future when she nodded. "You said "when the police found _us_", so I take it there was another person taken at the same time, but you also said you had a unique perspective of the crimes. How?"

"Yeah, there was another girl, Nicki, taken at the around the same time as me. We were kept in the same room for a few weeks. She didn't make it. You see, the reason I had a unique insight on that one is because I'm the only one of his victims still alive. He killed ten women before Nicki and I were taken. She was number eleven, and I would have been number twelve. He murdered four more before we finally caught the bastard!" she told him, her voice thick with emotion.

"I'm so sorry," he told her, wondering what else she had been through.

  
Without thinking, he closed the distance between them, kneeling on the floor beside the chair and wrapping his arms around her in a gesture of comfort, something he hadn't done since Holly's death. He forced himself to relax as she laid her head against his shoulder, accepting his comfort, though every nerve ending in his body seemed to be working overtime, sending signals to his brain that he didn't want to deal with just yet.

"You said something about your boss not liking your background? In what way?" he enquired, trying to take his mind off the storm of emotions building inside him.

"My background? Yeah, it got up his nose all right. No education, no formal training, it really pissed him off. I spent several years sleeping rough, on the streets, basically one of the many 'invisible' homeless people in my home city," she paused, gathering her thoughts, her body still resting against his. "I dropped out of school at thirteen to look after my mother. My father died when I was a little girl and my two brothers passed away a few months before my mum. They were involved in a car accident when I was seven or eight years old, I think. Both of them suffered severe head trauma and lost their hearing, so when they were forced to learn sign language to communicate, I learnt as well. The doctors think the accident was what triggered both to develop inoperable brain tumours, but they can't be sure. Both my brothers died not long after my thirteenth birthday, and my mum followed about eight months later. After that, I just kinda looked after myself. Five years later, I ran into Sean. The rest is history," she laughed weakly, though her voice remained laden with sadness.

"God, you have been through the wringer, haven't you," he murmured, tenderly stroking her hair as he gently rocked her back and forth. They both lapsed into a comfortable silence as Jera allowed herself to be comforted, while minute cracks began to appear in the thick wall Gil had built up around his feelings…  



	4. Meeting the Team

A full moon hung low in the night sky as Jera stood in Grissom's office, her attention focused on the beautiful orange tint of their nearest spatial neighbour. She was so wrapped up in her examination of the night sky that she didn't hear Grissom enter the office, nor did she see him slip quietly into his chair. 

"A hunter's moon," she murmured, her voice slightly wistful as she continued to stare into space. "Not quite as bright as back home tho, too much light from the city," Her sigh sounded overly loud in the silence of the office and she smiled sadly, wondering where her new 'boss' was.

"Really? Does it seem brighter back in England?" Grissom asked softly, allowing a small, indulgent smile to show as she spun to face him, her expression startled.

"I dunno. I guess it's just that I'm not used to seeing it in the sky above such a big city," she admitted, recovering quickly from her shock.

"Why? Surely English cities aren't that small, are they?" he quizzed her, secretly enjoying her discomfort.

"No, not really. Thing is, I work in the city but I live out in the country. Hell, most of the roads around my village don't even have street lights on them," she confessed, not overly keen on admitting that she found large populated areas a little overwhelming and claustrophobic.

"Funny, I pictured you as a city gal. Didn't really have ya pegged as a country sort," he told her, putting on a fair imitation of a backwater accent. His smile widened as she stuck her tongue out at him, as she had the night before.

"You trying to get a rise outta me Gil?" she accused, laughing as he tried to school his expression into one of pure _'butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth'_ innocence.

"Would I do such a thing?" he asked sweetly, unable to keep the mischief from his eyes.

"Yeah, ya would!" she laughed, unconsciously shifting her body into a slightly more suggestive pose.

"That's unfair," he protested, reading her body language with growing unease. _"You're sure as hell getting a rise outta me tho,"_ he thought, interpreting the subtle signals of interest with practiced ease. Although he outwardly appeared completely at ease, inwardly he was struggling hard to maintain his composure. He was puzzled, and slightly annoyed, at how eagerly his body seemed to respond to the newcomer.

  
  
A knock on the door made them both jump, and Grissom sent a silent prayer of thanks to whoever was listening, glad of the interruption. Moving to the door, he thanked the patrolman standing in the corridor outside, taking the folder the younger man was holding and dismissing him back to his own work. Closing the door behind him, Grissom returned to his desk and began speed-reading the contents of the case file.

"Well, tonight you get first choice of the case we investigate," he told Jera as she took a seat beside him at the desk.

"What we got?" she wanted to know, curiosity piqued.

"OK, tonight's contestants are… a dead body in the desert, cause of death unknown. Appears to have been pretty badly beaten though. Or, we have a homicide at a drug store, seems to have been an attempted robbery gone wrong," he replied, passing her the details of each case.

"A drug store? What kind of city is this Gil?" she queried, her expression a little worried.

"A drug store, somewhere that you go to get medicine when you're sick…" he filled her in, watching as comprehension crossed her face.

"Ah, right! Back home we call it a pharmacy. If we called it a drug store, all the damn junkies would be in there," she laughed, wondering how many other cultural pit falls she might stumble into.

"Sorry bout that, didn't occur to me that you'd use different terminology back home," he apologised, hiding his own smile. "So which case do you want?"

"Dead body in the desert. I love a good mystery," she grinned, an almost child-like excitement in her voice.

"OK, dead body in the desert it is. Now, before we head out there, it's time for you to meet the rest of the team," he told her, unwittingly getting caught up in her excitement. _"I love a good mystery,"_ the words echoed in his mind and he smiled, remembering his own thoughts about Jera the night before. _"A mystery to be solved…"_

"Oh, cool!" she exclaimed as she got to her feet, practically bouncing out of the room beside Grissom as they headed towards the break room.

  
  
Opening the door to allow Jera to precede him into the room, Grissom was privately impressed by the professional demeanour of their visitor. He'd had a moment of anxiety when they left his office, but in the short distance to the break room she had switched into a work mindset. Although she was the epitome of calm and professionalism, her eyes still held some of her earlier enthusiasm and Grissom had to fight hard not to smile. As they took their seats, he noticed the admiring looks cast at her by Nick, and quashed the urge to say something to him about it.

"Good evening ladies and gents. First things first, it's my pleasure to introduce Jera Pertho. Jera is a CSI from England, and she'll be with us a while," he introduced her, glancing at her to see if she had anything to add.

"Wet-behind-the-ears rookie, at your service," she said, completely deadpan. A bark of laughter from Nick and Warrick made her smile slightly, turning back to Grissom with a haughty expression.

"Touché," he replied, a mysterious half-smile tugging at his lips. "Jera became a CSI in England aged nineteen and has spent the last nine years working on the most complex cases which come through her department. She specialises in Botany and entomology."

"Flowers and bugs? You guys will get on great then Gris," Catherine piped up, flashing him a knowing smile.

"Wouldn't bet on that," Jera murmured, drawing curious looks from both Catherine and Sara.

"Behave," Gil growled at her, ignoring the surprised expressions of his team.

"Yes _Dad_!" she bit back, her tone oozing with sarcasm. Fighting the urge to stick her tongue out at him as he rolled his eyes in mock despair, she held her peace.

"Right, on to business. Warrick, Catherine and Sara; you guys get a multiple homicide at Hopkins drug store. PD thinks it was a robbery that went wrong. Nick; you, Jera and I are heading out into the desert. We've got a badly beaten body with no obvious cause of death," he briefed his team, gathering his papers and rising to his feet. Holding the door open for Jera, Grissom caught the look which passed between her and Nick. Anger flared in him for a moment before he controlled it, unsure what had caused it…


	5. Death in the Desert

Darkness descended quickly into the SUV as the trio left behind the bright lights of the city and headed into the desert. With Grissom driving, Jera and Nick began talking about the differences in criminology between Vegas and Bristol. 

"So, get many murders back home?" the younger man asked, flashing Jera a winning smile.

"OK, first off, we don't know this is murder. And yes, we do get murders in England ya know. Just because we're an island doesn't mean that people are any less sick and twisted than they can be here," she chided gently, smiling to take the sting from her words. 

"No offence meant," he apologised, casting a venomous look at Grissom as his boss tried to stifle a laugh.

"None taken hun," she assured him, casting a reproachful look at Grissom as they pulled off the main road and went over a rather large pothole. "An' you have no room to talk, Mr **_'I-don't-want-some-wet-behind-the-ears-rookie-getting-in–the-way'_**," she reminded the older man, her tone dripping with mock disgust.

"What? I didn't know how many years you'd been on the job," he protested, sounding so serious that Jera and Nick couldn't contain their laughter.

"I think that might be our crime scene," she said, pointing to the flashing lights of a police car ahead of them. Drawing up beside the patrol car, the three investigators collected their gear and headed for the body illuminated in the car's headlights. 

"Hoof prints," Jera noted, shining her torch away from the body. "Looks like a lot of them too."

"Yeah, there are some wild herds that graze in the foothills around here," Gil informed her, turning his attention to the body. Kneeling down, he peeled away the remnants of the man's shirt, revealing a torso covered in ugly purple and black bruises. "Well, this guy has certainly been through the wringer. Looks like you might have been right about murder, Nicky my boy," he told the younger man as he continued to examine the body.

"What's this?" Nick asked, using his tweezers to extract a small sliver of hard, muddy brown material from a large gash on the man's left shoulder.

"Looks like some kind of bone. Bag it and we'll get the lab to have a look," Gil told him, looking intently at the pattern of bruising covering the body. Sliding his hands under the man's torso carefully, he slowly lifted the corpse, casting a grateful glance at Jera as she placed her hands beside his to steady the body. Carefully moving the shirt away, he noticed there were virtually no marks on the dead man's back. "Look at this. This guy's chest is black and blue, yet there's almost no marking on his back. If it was an attack, this would seem to indicate he was facing his attacker, or attackers, the whole time." Laying him back down, they searched for any other wounds or trauma.

  
  
"Well, he wasn't beaten to death," Jera announced suddenly, looking up at Grissom and Nick as they examined the body.

"What makes you say that?" Gil asked, cocking his head to one side slightly.

"Well, look here. You see these semi-circular bruises?" she pointed out, indicating the large purple marks covering most of his body.

"Yeah, he's covered in them," Nick replied, glancing at his boss who nodded his affirmation.

"They weren't made by a person, there's no finger marks. These were made by hooves," she told them.

"Hooves? As in a horse?" Nick questioned.

"Horses actually. Plural. And, by the lack of damage I'd say they're wild," she advised.

"Lack of damage? The guy's dead, you don't get much more damaged than that Jera," the younger man stated heatedly.

"Actually Nick, it gets a lot worse. You see, wild horses aren't shod," she explained.

"So?" he pressed, still not quite understanding what she was getting at.

"So, metal horse shoes do a lot more damage than this. Look, I'll show you," she said as she got to her feet. Both men stared at her as she undid the zip on her cargo pants and pulled the material down a little, exposing her right hip. Imprinted in the skin were five small, square marks. "These were made by Thunder, my old horse. He was a real bad tempered begger sometimes. I was coming around behind him and he kicked me. Caught me right here and the impact threw me six feet across the stable yard. I was bloody lucky to walk again after that. Spent nine weeks in hospital with a smashed up hip and pelvis."

"Ouch!" Gil cut in, reaching out and running his fingers over the small scars without thinking. Suddenly realising what he was doing, and feeling his hunger rising, he snatched his hand back and coughed, embarrassed by his actions.

"Yeah, it was bloody painful," she laughed, doing her cargos back up. "Anyway, my point is, this was done by one shod hoof of one horse. If the horses that trampled this guy were shod, he'd have been ripped to pieces. My guess is that he was trampled by a herd of wild horses. Whether it was what killed him, I don't know. That's what we have to find out. What I can tell you though, is that if he got caught in the stampede of a large enough herd, it's very likely they killed him. As a general rule, horses don't like hitting people and will try to avoid us, so some of them would have swerved around him but they wouldn't all have been able to. Unless we find evidence to the contrary, I'd say this man was just in the wrong place at the wrong time," she concluded, shrugging her shoulders slightly.

"Right, let's get the body to the morgue and the evidence back to the lab," Grissom decided. The three gathered their gear and headed back to their vehicle, ready to discover what story the evidence would tell them.

  
  
Entering the DNA lab with the fragment they had discovered on the body, Jera was surprised to find the room empty.

"Hello? Anyone here?" she asked quietly, jumping slightly as a young man emerged from a side room.

"Hellooo," Greg greeted her, looking her up and down hungrily, like a predator looking at its prey.

"You must be Greg. I'm Jera, the CSI from over the pond," she introduced herself, handing him the small evidence bag containing the strange shard they had found on their victim. "Can you tell me what this is?"

"Yup, but it'll take a bit of time. The impossible I can do right away but miracles take a little longer," he joked, taking the bag from her and removing its contents. "I'll page you when I have something," he told her, placing the specimen under a microscope and getting to work.

An hour later, Jera returned to the lab, having received a page from Greg to say he had something for her. Entering the room, she smiled warmly at the young lab tech.

"So, what ya got?" she wanted to know, crossing the room and standing beside the young lab technician.

"Well, it's a fragment of bone, equine in origin," he told her, smiling smugly.

"Equine? You mean it's a shard of a horse's hoof?" she queried, smiling in response to Greg's enthusiasm.

"Yup," he confirmed, clearing his throat before he continued. "Can I ask you somethin?"

"Sure. What do you wanna know?" she asked, fairly sure she knew what he wanted but wanting to make him say it just the same.

"Well, I was wonderin whether you wanted to go for a drink sometime?" he suggested, suddenly shy.

"Greg, you seem like a nice bloke but I'm already taken," she told him gently, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "Thanks for this. I owe ya one," she told him with a friendly wink, grabbing the test results and disappearing out of the lab before Greg could say another word.

  
  
Entering the break room later that night, Grissom walked over and stood in front of Jera, smiling enigmatically, while the rest of his team looked at their boss expectantly.

"The coroner has confirmed that cause of death was massive blunt force trauma to the chest, crushing his ribcage and internal organs. The fragment of bone found on the body was identified as equine in origin, a shard of a horse's hoof to be exact. Given the shape of the bruises on the body, the hoof prints found at the scene and that small piece of hoof, the evidence tells us that our victim was unfortunate enough to be caught in the middle of a stampede. What he was doing out there is anyone's guess but our job is the how, not the why," he concluded with a shrug.   
  
"Good call Jera," he congratulated, looking directly at her for a moment. His eyes widened for a split second as he saw the desire in her eyes, mirroring his own. With a slight nod to the rest of his team, he turned and left the room, leaving the others to congratulate their foreign colleague on solving her first case in Vegas.

Walking into his office and closing the door behind him, Gil made his way to his desk and sank slowly into the comfortable chair behind it. _"Well, she was right on the money tonight,"_ he thought, closing his eyes and letting out a gentle sigh. In his mind, he saw the small scars on her hip that she had shown them earlier, remembering how soft and smooth her skin had felt under his fingers. _"Did I really just see in her eyes what I think I saw?"_ he mused, shaking his head in denial. _"No, it's not going to happen. Besides, why the hell would she be interested in me?"_


	6. Keeping Control

Hiding a smile, Grissom crept into his office silently, trying not to disturb the young woman staring out of the window. It had become a nightly ritual between them over the past week; Jera caught up in memories of home and Grissom trying to sneak into his office without her noticing him. 

"Evenin Gil," she greeted him when he was half way across the room.

"Evenin Jera. Everything OK?" he asked, struggling to keep his tone casual. The sadness in her voice worried a little him but he was determined not to show his concern.

"I'm fine," she assured him, shaking her head to dispel old memories. Turning to face him, she smiled and crossed to take her seat at the desk.

"OK, let's see what we've got tonight," he said, knowing her well enough not to push her, even though he had noticed that her smile had never reached her eyes. Examining the case folders on his desk, he tried to decide which assignment to give to whom, deciding to let Jera choose the case they would investigate. A timid knock at the door interrupted his decision.

"Here, you decide what we're gonna do tonight," he told her, handing over the folders as he got to his feet and made his way to the door. The young woman from dispatch handed him a sealed, A4 envelope and left, leaving him in a difficult situation. _"Great, now what? Do I tell her what's in here?"_ he thought, trying to decide whether to come clean about the envelope's contents, should she ask.

"Anything interesting?" she queried, nodding towards the envelope in his hand as he re-took his seat.

"Nah, just some stuff to do with an old case," he replied, shaking his head as he stashed the envelope in a drawer. "So, what takes your fancy tonight then?" 

"I dunno, what's ya pleasure?" she asked huskily, smiling seductively. Passing the folders back to him, she cast him a smouldering look, raising her arms above her head and deliberately leaning back in her chair, stretching the kinks out of her back slowly. "I dunno bout you, but I could really do with a long, hot bath and a nice, _hard_ massage. Fancy volunteering…" she invited, leaving the suggestion hanging in the air between them.

"I… err…" he stammered, lost for words as he watched her. Mesmerised by the fluid movements of her supple body as she stretched, he could feel a desperate need rising inside him and fought it, unwilling to let anything happen between them. _"Christ girl, you better stop that soon cos I don't know how long I can keep control with you doin that!"_ he thought, a silent war raging inside him as he watched her. Part of him wanted to just grab her, sweep everything off his desk and satisfy his desires right there in his office, but logical part of him was stronger… for now. 

"Jera, which case would you like to take?" he asked slowly, lips pursed in amusement, trying to ignore his body as it screamed for satisfaction.

"Spoil-sport," she pouted, crossing her arms in mock sullenness.

"Choose a case and solve it before the end of the shift, and I'll give you a nice, _hard_ massage…" he murmured, not realising he had spoken out loud.

"You're on!" she accepted, the hunger in her eyes mirroring his own.

"I said that out loud?" he groaned, not sure how to proceed.

"Yup!" she laughed, openly enjoying his discomfort as he squirmed with embarrassment.

"I…" he stopped, lost for words for the second time in ten minutes.

"My God! The mighty Gil Grissom, lost for words? The world must be ending," she crowed, smirking at finally being able to get a victory, however small. Licking the end of one finger and drawing an imaginary number 1 in the air, she settled back and watched him carefully as he recovered his composure. _"Well, well. Maybe the attraction isn't one sided…"_ she mused as a sudden scene began playing in her mind….

  
_"Jera, say you want me…" Gil told her, running his hands gently over her naked body. Her skin tingled where he touched her, fire coursing through her veins as he teased her. _

_"I want you Gil…" she breathed, a moan of pleasure escaping her lips as he began laying gentle kisses down between her breasts, moving slowly lower._

_"Not good enough baby," he murmured, tracing small circles around her belly button with his tongue. "Beg."_

_"Please… Gil… Please… Oh God! Please Gil…" she begged, gasping the words out as he continued to move lower...._

  
"Jera? Jera!" Grissom repeated, jerking her back to reality. Eyebrows raised in amused query, he suppressed a smile at the guilty look on her face. _"Guess I'm not the only one…"_ he thought smugly. "Come on, which case do ya want?"

"The abuse accusation," she replied, suddenly feeling they had to solve that particular case, even though she didn't know why.

"OK, the abuse case it is," he confirmed. Although his face showed no emotion, his voice was as cold as ice. Getting to his feet, Gil left the office with Jera close on his heels. While she was desperate to know the reason for the sudden change in her new boss, she wisely kept silent.

  
  
Neither of them spoke on the drive over to the house of the alleged victim, both lost in their own thoughts. As they pulled up outside, they saw Brass and Warrick waiting for them, both men looking uncomfortable.

"So, where's our vic?" Grissom asked, stopping in front of Warrick.

"The boy, Andy Marshall, is in the house with his parents. Says he was assaulted by his baby sitter, Mary Tristram," advised the former head of CSI. Grissom nodded and turned towards the house, Jera and Warrick following close behind their boss. The house was quiet as they entered and Jera a strange feeling of déjà vu come over her, as if she had been there before. _"Don't be so damn stupid girl! You've never been here before!"_ she chided herself as the three CSI's entered the living room. Stopping just inside, she watched silently as Grissom and Warrick approached the family.

"My name is Gil Grissom. This is Warrick Brown," he told them gently as he indicated Warrick. "And over by the door is Jera Pertho. We're from the Las Vegas Crime Lab. We know you've been through a lot tonight, but we need to ask you a few questions about what happened. OK?" he asked, his voice soft.

"You don't believe me, do you?" accused Andy, as tears begin to well up in his eyes. "You don't know how it feels, no-one does!"

"How old are you Andy?" asked Jera suddenly, remaining where she was.

"Twelve," the boy admitted, looking at her with a strange expression.

"Any brothers or sisters?" she wanted to know.

"Yeah, one sister, Carla. She's thirteen," he told her, watching her as she walked slowly over and knelt in front of the couch. "You got a funny accent."

"You're right, I have. That's cos I'm from a country a long way away, called England," she admitted, smiling a little at the boy.

"That's where they have a Queen instead of a President," he informed them all, proud of his knowledge.

"That's right, we do. Now, can you keep a secret?" she asked him, her voice dropping a little. When the boy nodded, she continued. "Well, when I was the same age as your sister, my parents went away and I was on my own. I didn't have any other family, so I ended up on the streets. It's really icky, trust me," she told him, making a funny face which made Andy smile. "While I was on my own, a bad man found me." She paused, taking two sheets of paper from the folder she had placed on the floor beside her. The two sheets were injury sheets, used by paramedics to indicate injuries on a victim. On one was a drawing of a girl, and the other was a drawing of a boy. "When the bad man found me, he touched me. Just like your baby sitter did to you tonight. Did she make you touch her anywhere?" When Andy shook his head, Jera held up the injury sheet of the boy. "Can you show me where she touched you Andy?" she asked, her voice gentle. Andy hesitated, trying to decide if he believed what she had told him.

"Where did the bad man touch you?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Here, here and here," Jera told him, indicating three points on the drawing of the girl. The admission seemed to convince the boy of her story and he slowly pointed out the areas he had been assaulted on the male drawing. Quickly circling the areas he had pointed out, Jera slid the sheet back into the folder. "Thank you Andy. Now, these men have to ask you a few questions, OK?"

"But, they're scary," the boy whispered, his voice full of fear.

"Don't worry, they're not half as scary as they look. Let ya in on another secret. That one still sleeps with a teddy bear," she whispered back, pointing to Grissom. Andy looked at the older man for a moment and then smiled, the information suddenly making the older man a lot less scary.

  
  
  
Twenty minutes later, they left the house and headed back to the lab, all three subdued by the events at the house.

"We need to get those samples over to Greg as soon as we get back," Grissom told them, his voice tight as he tried to keep his anger under control. "Warrick, I want you to work the boy's clothes, get everything you can. Jera, I want you to run Mary Tristram through every database we have access to. If she's done anything like this before, I want to know about it, no matter how long ago."

"OK," Jera and Warrick said in unison, both sensing the case was somehow personal to their boss.

"I'll get the samples over to Greg, see what he can turn up," he said quietly, not really speaking to either of the other two people in the car. _"I'll run the damn tests myself if it comes to it. I will NOT let this bitch get away with this!"_ he thought angrily, sickened by the suffering of young Andy. He was so furious at the boy's treatment, and so determined to get justice for him, that he forgot he wanted to ask Jera about what she had told the boy back at the house.

  
  
When they arrived back at the lab, Grissom stormed inside, heading straight for the DNA lab. Everyone wisely got out of his way, having seen him in this kind of mood often enough to know to simply stay out of the way.

"Hope Greg has the sense to see how pissed Grissom is," Jera muttered to Warrick as they entered the building behind their boss.

"He's gotten a lot better since he got hurt," Warrick told her, trying to calm her fears. 

"I hope you're right," she replied as they separated, each going to get their own work done. A few minutes later, Jera spotted Grissom head into the break room, grabbing himself a coffee and taking a seat near Nick and Sara. Content for the time being, she turned back to the computer screen, searching for any shred of information that could help them put Mary Tristram behind bars.

  
  
Grissom strode into the break room, nodding to Nick and Sara as he crossed to the coffee machine and poured himself a large cup of the rich dark liquid. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself a little, he turned and chose a seat near to his team members, needing to be around other people for the moment. Although neither of them spoke, he caught the worried looks both cast in his direction and hid a smile, well aware of how they saw him. _"A sad old guy with no feelings and no life outside work,"_ he laughed in his mind, not minding the image too much. _"At least it means not having the complications most people have in their lives,"_ he confessed to himself as an image of Lady Heather came into his mind. While their affair had been brief, it had certainly been interesting. Slowly, her face faded from his mind, replaced by an image of laughing, deep blue eyes. _"Must remember to ask her about that little story she told the boy,"_ he thought, remembering Jera's confession at the victim's house. As he sat quietly in the break room, more images of Jera came to mind and he found himself recalling his thoughts the night they had first met. A mysterious half-smile tugged at his mouth, as he remembered the erotic dreams he had experienced every time he had slept since that night. Glancing across the hall and seeing Jera hard at work, he suddenly recalled the file hidden in his desk drawer and got to his feet.

"If you guys need me, I'll be in my office," he advised, stifling a yawn. Smiling to themselves, Nick and Sara watched Grissom leave the break room, suspecting he was probably going to grab a little sleep while they waited for the lab to finish running their tests.

  
  
Slipping into his office, Grissom sank into his chair and sighed, knowing the lab results would take some time to complete. He hated having nothing to do, hated waiting, but there was nothing he could do at the present time. _"Well, actually there is…"_ he thought, opening the top desk drawer and removing the envelope that lay within. Unsealing it slowly, he carefully removed the file inside and opened it reverently, wondering briefly if he was doing the right thing by reading it. Slipping on his glasses, he began reading the first of several reports.

_Case # 1246-759.  
Date: October 23rd 1993.   
Investigating Officer: Detective Inspector Tony Marcus_

_INITIAL FINDINGS_

_Victim is Caucasian female, nineteen years old, 5 feet 3 inches in height. She was discovered at 3am this morning in a derelict house on James Street, approx. four miles from the city centre. The body of Nikki Taylor, a local prostitute and drug addict, was also discovered at the site. Medical examination of the victim confirms initial suspicions of sexual assault, as well as physical torture. Blood work shows that victim is a former drug user, but cocaine levels in her blood show she last took the drug eight to ten weeks ago, several weeks before her abduction. Abrasions on her wrists and ankles show she was bound for long periods of time. Victim is malnourished, weighing 5 stone and 3 pounds at time of admittance to hospital. Victim's clothing was torn, indicating she fought her attacker – see initial crime scene photographs. A missing persons report for Ms Taylor was filed on October 2nd by her boyfriend but no such report appears to have ever been filed for our victim, suggesting she has no family, or close friends, who would notice her absence. _

_Injuries sustained are as follows:_

_Gouges on left thigh, consistent with marks made by fingernails.  
Bruising over approx. 60% of the body.  
Stab wounds to right thigh and abdomen.  
Eight broken ribs.  
Compound fracture of right tibia and fibula.  
Fractures to both Maxilla and mandible bones  
Hairline fracture to Zygomatic bone  
Multiple fractures to right Humerus and radius bones_

_Dr Matthews confirms that victim has been raped multiple times. However, she also believes victim was not sexually active at time of assault, as small pieces of carunculae hymenales (hymen membrane) were discovered during physical examination of the victim. Dr Matthews has concluded that had the victim been sexually active before her abduction, these should not have been as obvious or large in size as they are. _

  
The beeping of his pager interrupted Grissom's reading, and he cursed under his breath. Checking the message, he closed the file and placed it on his desk, intending to continue his examination of the old case when he finished his current one. Leaving his office, he headed towards the conference room to see what new information his team had.


	7. Digging Up the Past

**_**Author's notes: As I am British and so is Jera, the date on her case file is in the British format of dd/mm/yy. And yes, it does say 23rd October 1993, which will become relevant later on. Oh, and yeah, I do know the number she tells him to call spells something that ain't very polite LOL **_**

  


Sitting in the conference room with the rest of his team, Grissom didn't see Jera approaching the room. The door slammed open, startling them all and he looked up to Jera stalking towards him, a murderous expression on her face.

"Jera. Is everything OK?" he asked, wondering what could have caused her anger, and her violent entrance.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded, drawing shocked looks from the other occupants in the room.

"I don't know what you mean," he told her, hands raised slightly in a placating gesture.

"What gives you the right to stick your nose into things that don't concern you?" she wanted to know, her voice rising slightly in volume.

"Jera, calm down and tell me what's wrong," he suggested, indicating she should take one of the empty seats and explain the reason for her fury. Other members of staff began taking notice of the argument, trying to listen while appearing not to be.

"Tell you what Grissom, the next time you want to go snooping into my personal life, I suggest you don't go leaving the evidence in plain view on your desk, where anyone could find it!" she shouted, furious at his invasion of her privacy. Throwing the case folder she was carrying onto the desk in front of him, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the room.

"What was that all about Gris?" Catherine asked curiously.

"Damn," Gil muttered to himself as he turned the folder over. Blazoned on the cover were the words CASE # 1246-759 - JERA PERTHO – 23/10/93. "I'll be back," he said suddenly, grabbing the folder before the others could get a good look at it and leaving the room.

"Did I just see that right? Jera has a case file?" Nick asked, not sure he believed what he had seen.

"So it would seem," Cath answered quietly, wondering at the younger woman's reaction. "Guess there's more to our English friend than meets the eye."

"I'd say so, yeah. And by her reaction, I'd say she's mighty pissed about Grissom having that file. Wonder what's in it?" Sara mused, vocalising the question they were all thinking.

  
  
Striding down the corridor, Jera shoved open the outer door of the building and stormed out into the cool Vegas night. Her breath caught in her throat as the cold air hit her, calming her temper instantly. Moving away from the entrance, she crouched down and lent back against the stone wall, taking a packet of cigarettes from her pocket and lighting one up. Hands shaking, she took a long drag and slowly exhaled, the nicotine intake beginning to steady her nerves. 

"Well, that's one way to get yourself kicked out girl," she muttered to herself, angry at her lack of control.

"Ya know, they say talking to yourself is the first sign of madness," Grissom said softly, stepping out of the shadows beside her and watching her jump slightly in surprise.

"Yeah, and hearing someone answer you is the second," she shot back, recovering quickly. She fought the urge to leave as he crouched down beside her, remaining still and silent as she waited for the inevitable dismissal to come. When it didn't, she turned her head slightly to see him staring at her, his expression apologetic. "So, guess I'm on the next flight home then huh?"

"Well, if you leave without permission, I'll have to fire ya. Otherwise, no," he denied, shaking his head. "I'm not gonna to kick you out for being angry at me cos I over-stepped the line. Here," he told her, offering her the file.

"Keep it. You've probably seen all the best bits. Lots of juicy gossip in there for ya to use," she snapped, looking away from him and taking another drag of her cigarette. 

"Jera! I'm not going to tell anyone else what's in here," he assured her, trying to control his temper. "Do ya wanna tell me what happened?"

"Sure, why not," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let's see; I was kidnapped, raped, tortured and forced to watch the sick bastard cut my best friend's throat. Anything else ya wanna know?" she asked, angrily stubbing her cigarette out on the ground beside her with undue force and throwing it into the smokers bin a few feet away.

"Jera, please. I just wanna help you," he told her, sighing in defeat.

"Gris, why don't ya call 1-800-3825-968 and tell someone who cares!" she snarled, getting to her feet and heading back into the building.

"Well, you really handled that well," he cursed himself, confused at her hostility and angry at his mishandling of the situation. Shaking his head, he waited a few minutes before he too returned to work.

  
  
Sitting at the computer terminal, Jera contemplated her actions, and her harsh words to her current boss. Had anyone from her home lab seen the way she had behaved, they would have known something was seriously wrong. _"They would have known not to go snooping in my damn file!"_ she thought, more hurt than angry at Gil's intrusion into her past. _"You just want to pretend it didn't happen, and you can't do that Jera. What if something ever happens between you two?"_ asked a voice deep in her mind. She pondered the question, not sure how she would react if anything happened. _"Would you tell him that Sean is the only man you've ever been with?"_ the voice in her mind asked. _"No, that was different. Sean never had my consent!"_ she argued with herself. _"The fact that it was against your will is irrelevant! Do you honestly think that it will be any different with Gil than it was with Sean? You try to make yourself believe that it'll be nice, enjoyable, but it won't be!"_ the voice screamed at her, as memories of her ordeal forced themselves into her mind. Shuddering with remembered horror, she pushed the images from her mind, forcing the voice to be silent. A knock at the door caused her to turn, and she smiled at Nick as he poked his head around the door, grateful for the interruption.

"Grissom told me to come and find you. He wants to know if you want to be involved in the interview of your suspect?" he informed her.

"Thanks Nick. Would you mind telling him that I'll pass? I have a lot of searching to do if we're gonna find any prior complaints against this woman," she replied, keeping her voice light.

"Sure, I'll tell him. Jera, did you two have a fight? Is that why you don't wanna be around him at the moment?" he guessed, watching her closely.

"Yeah, we had a fight but I really do have a lot of work to do," she assured him, her tone telling him not to ask any more questions. He nodded and left, leaving Jera to continue her hunt for Mary Tristram.

  
  
Several hours later, Jera gathered up everything she had been able to find on Mary Tristram and headed for the conference room. When she arrived, she was greeted by Grissom, Warrick and Nick. She noticed Grissom avoided looking at her and sighed to herself, knowing she would have to make peace with her boss at some point soon.

"OK, Mary Tristram is denying sexually assaulting Andy Marshall. What does the evidence tell us?" Gil asked, covertly watching Jera as she took a seat.

"The epithelials we lifted from the scratch on Andy Marshall's chest came back as a match to Mary Tristram. So did the samples we took from his clothing," Warrick advised, his tone slightly smug.

"Good job Warrick," Grissom congratulated his teammate. "Jera, did your search turn up anything?" he asked.

"Yup. I ran her name through CODIS and got a match. Mary Tristram, formally Mary Mathers, was charged but never convicted on two counts of sexual assault three years ago. I cross referenced her previous known addresses and found another nine charges. The charges were all against what appeared to be different women, until I pulled up the police photos. They're all the same woman. Just to be sure, I pulled up all the prints taken at the time of each charge and got Carrie to run them through AFIS. They all match our suspect. If we can get evidence to prove the assault, we can put this monster away for a long time," she told them.

"Good work Jera. The samples we took from under Ms. Tristram's fingernails were an exact DNA match for Andy Marshall. I think we've got her!" Grissom replied, satisfied that Mary Tristram would never again prey on an innocent young boy. He looked up as Nick left the room, not seeing the pain on the younger man's face as he hurried away.

  
  
Following Nick into the break room, Jera grabbed herself a cup of tea and took a seat next to the young man. She had seen the way his face had paled at the mention of the name Mary Mathers, and was concerned about her colleague.

"Nick, if you want to talk, I'm here for you," she told him, slipping her arm around his shoulders in comfort. "You know Mary, don't you?" she guessed, Nick's flinch confirming her suspicions. "She did the same to you, when you were a kid?"

"Yeah," he admitted, after a long moment of silence. "I was nine, and she was a last minute baby-sitter. Afterwards, I sat in my room, in the dark, and waited for my mom to get home. I've only ever told one person about it." As he spoke, tears began to well up in his eyes, and he turned his face away, fighting to keep his control.

"Nick, look at me," she murmured, placing her hand on his cheek. Slowly, he turned back to her, tears beginning to trickle down his face as he finally released years of pent up emotion. Instinctively he knew she wouldn't judge him, wouldn't blame him or tell anyone his secret. All she would offer was her compassion, and her understanding. Resting his head on her shoulder, he allowed himself to be comforted as he sobbed. Gently rocking back and forth, she tenderly stroked his hair and let him cry, holding back her own tears until later, when she could shed them alone. 

"I'm sorry," he mumbled several minutes later, his voice still choked with emotion.

"Don't be hun. You went through something no one should ever have to go through. At least now she's going to jail. She'll never be able to hurt anyone ever again," she promised him softly. They remained where they were for several more minutes, a companionable silence between them. 

"Thanks Jera," he said finally, lifting his head and looking at her. Touching her face lightly with his hand, he lowered his head and gently pressed his lips to hers. Caught up in the strong emotions of the situation, she didn't stop to think what she was doing, but instead responded to the kiss as passionately as he did. Neither saw Grissom stop outside the room, nor the look of pain and betrayal that flashed across his face as he saw them. Suddenly feeling she was being watched, Jera pulled away, glancing towards the corridor and finding it empty.

"I'm sorry Nick. You're a really nice guy but…" she tried to explain, unable to put her feelings into words.

"But…?" he pressed her, already knowing the answer.

"My heart… already belongs to someone," she finished, seeing the look of understanding in the young man's eyes.

"I can see that. Still, if you ever change your mind…" he laughed, winking at her suggestively.

"I'll have to remember that…" she replied, smiling at him as the sudden tension between them evaporated. Laughing, they both returned to their work, unaware their boss had witnessed their momentary loss of control. As Jera walked from the break room, she decided it was time she apologised to Grissom for her earlier behaviour and made her way to his office. Pushing the door open, she was disappointed to find the room empty. _"Damn. Well, I'll catch him tomorrow,"_ she thought, closing the door behind her and heading for the parking lot, desperate for a hot bath and sleep.


	8. All the Fun of the Fair

**Author's Note**: This story was originally written post season 3, pre season 4. Given some of the things that have happened since then, I am going to make this story AU so I can carry on as it was originally meant, while not having to factor in the events post season 4. Bit of fluff, before things get heavy again :)

* * *

Three weeks of non-stop cases was beginning to take its toll on the night shift, and in particular on Jera. It had been a busy month so far, with far more than usual events taking place in the city, and causing a higher than average crime rate. While he'd been making sure that his team got at least one day off each week, Grissom had been working every day and Jera had been right beside him, refusing to take time off when he wouldn't. After two straight nights of the two of them griping at each other, Catherine finally got sick of listening to them and ordered them to take the night off, assuring Grissom that the lab could manage without him for one night. Jera had decided that she wanted to spend her night off at a large fair that had arrived in the desert several days before. Grissom, in a rare moment of unreservedness, had decided to accompany her and had offered to drive, allowing Jera to have a drink if she wanted one.

.

"So, what do you fancy doing first?" Jera asked, smiling and squirming in her seat, her excitement evident.

"I'm not sure, I haven't been to a fair for many years," he admitted, hiding his amusement at her excitement. "What is there to do?" he asked, glancing at her.

"Lots of things," she replied with a giggle. "There's lots of rides, shooting galleries, all sorts of stuff."

"So, how about we start with some of the games and look at some rides later?" he asked, smiling. He was glad she was relaxed around him, the past few weeks had been awkward between them. Since seeing her kiss Nick, Grissom had been trying to avoid spending too much time with her, giving her a chance to develop her relationship with the younger man. He didn't realise that she had already spoken to Nick, telling him that she was in love with someone else and that she was determined to win the man she loved.

"Sounds good to me," she agreed, intending to fully enjoy her night off. She tried to keep calm, but the combination of a night off and such close proximity to Grissom was making it difficult for her to concentrate.

.

Once they had pulled into the parking lot and found a place to park, Grissom and Jera walked into the fun fair, their arms brushing together as they were jostled by the crowd. Each time they touched, Jera's pulse raced and she wondered whether she could find a way to keep up the contact during the night. She spotted a firing booth, using air rifles to shoot balloons in order to win prizes, and motioned Grissom to head in that direction.

"Do you want me to show you how to use that?" he asked, watching as she gingerly picked up the rifle and loaded a small pellet into it.

"Thanks but I think I can manage," she grinned, cocking the weapon and lifting it into firing position with practised ease. She fired, reloaded and fired again, hitting both the balloons she had been aiming at. She fired a third time and got another hit, earning herself a prize; her choice of any one of the cuddly toys hanging on the stand. Smirking, she picked a two foot long plush ladybird and handed it to Grissom, an impish look on her face.

"Thanks," he laughed, tucking the toy under his arm and taking her hand in his. "So, where did you learn to shoot a small calibre rifle so well?"

"Tony taught me, when he helped me move in to my cottage. Said it would be a good way to get rid of rats and other vermin," she told him, trying to keep her desire under control at the feel of his hand around hers. They walked on through the fair, stopping at different booths and trying their hand at different games, all the while talking about random topics, none of which touched on the subject they were both avoiding, themselves.

.

After several rides, they stopped for a hot dog and drink, and found an out of the way bench to sit and eat. Grissom wanted to ask Jera about the report he'd been reading, the one she had seen on his desk they day they had argued. It was her case, the original file, sent over from England by Tony Marcus at Grissom's request so that he could understand the history of the woman he was working with. Part of him wanted to know so he could understand her, wanting to know what she'd been through because he wanted to get close to her. He hated the fact that she thought he'd been snooping into her life, her past, but he didn't know how to ask her about it.

Jera sat in silence, eating and watching Grissom, wondering what he was thinking about. She still felt a little agitated about him having access to her case file, but she had come to terms with the fact that he knew everything in there by now. The fact that they were here, together, gave her cause to hope that perhaps her past had not put him off, that just maybe he still found her attractive. Her mind began to wander, settling on the fantasy she had been having since arriving in Vegas, the fantasy about Grissom.

_Standing on her doorstep, Jera looked at Grissom and smiled. After he had driven her home, he had walked her to the door and wished her a good night. She'd asked him if he wanted to come in for coffee and he'd declined, saying he had court the following day and needed to get some sleep. With a distinct lack of inhibitions, brought on from the desire she felt racing through her veins, she stopped him as he turned to leave and pressed her lips to his in a gentle goodbye. His response was quick and unexpected, as he pinned her against the front door of her home, claiming her lips with his in a bruising kiss that spoke volumes of the sexual tension between them. His hands roamed her body, the skirt she was wearing making life a lot easier as he explored her, driving her to the peak of desire and taking her there in the open, against the front door._

Grissom watched her closely, seeing the flush to her cheeks and the slight glazing of her eyes, wondering who, and what, she was fantasising about. His breathing quickened in response to her obvious arousal, his pulse racing as he shifted position, sliding along the bench a little and closing the gap between them. She looked at him, her eyes bright with desire, her gaze taking in his increased pulse and breathing, as well as the other obvious signs of his own arousal. Without thinking about what she was doing, she leaned forward and gently touched her lips to his, expecting him to pull away. The flash of pure, unadulterated lust that shot through him took him by surprise, and he wasn't about to back down from the challenge she was presenting. In one fluid movement, he had her sat on his lap, straddling him, as he claimed her lips, kissing her deeply as he pulled her tight against him, leaving her in no doubt as to how much she aroused him. The world around them faded away as they kissed, their desire starting to break free from the constraints they placed upon themselves as they explored their attraction for each other.


End file.
